


Seven

by EarthToQuinne



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: A lot of misgendering and repression due to religion, Angst, Fluff and Angst, God is a cunt, High School, High School AU, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mentions of dysphoria and transphobia, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Seven Minutes In Heaven, The Devil is a Metaphor, Trans Male Character, Transgender, light allusions to smut this time around because I wrote this before I knew how to write it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthToQuinne/pseuds/EarthToQuinne
Summary: Gerard is in love with Frank but among other things, it's something he can't bring himself to say out loud.





	Seven

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Discussions of dysphoria, frequent misgendering, homophobia, and transphobia.

Deep down, Gerard always knew that there was something wrong inside. Something that was misplaced, something that wasn't quite right; a subtle feeling, a barely-there ghosting afterthought that lingered at the corners of his subconscious. While he almost didn’t notice unless he was paying extremely close attention, he knew that it was present. It was almost like the sensation that he often experienced when in a dark room, as if there's something lurking in the darkness, watching, waiting. 

It was looming and ever present, slowly making its way to the forefront of Gerard's mind. It crept in silently, making its way in, unannounced and uninvited. He wasn't quite sure when exactly it manifested itself and fully took home over, body, mind and soul. It was unclear as to when exactly the afterthought grew into something much bigger, but he was learning how to live with it.

He knew that it was far too big to ignore now. It couldn’t be pushed away. The Devil had already made his way into Gerard's bones, clutched him tightly, whispered into his ear. Though he knew it was wrong, he let himself indulge the Devil. Let him whisper pleasant lies to him at night, a soft hum that was enough to lull him into a dreamland where everything about him fit perfectly- inside and out.

Gerard reasoned with himself like he had many times before, as he stood in front of his bedroom mirror while his mother braided back his long hair and stared at the soft curve of his shoulders in his red party dress. He swore that he could think it as much as he wanted as long as he never said it out loud. It was just between him and the Devil then.

The sharp edges of the gold cross that hung just above the low neckline of Gerard's dress sparkled ominously in the light, averting his gaze. He could only stare at the cross, resting placently between his barely-there breasts. Usually, Gerard tried not to look at his body. He hid his curves underneath baggy clothes and didn’t look in mirrors too often. His mother, Eliza, had to practically hold him down to get him to use a hairbrush. But as he stood there, looking at the stranger reflected in the glass who wore the dress that his mother bought him, he was forced to look.

“There, Gina!” his mother exclaimed as she finished tying up the ends of the braid and stood back to admire her handy work. It was a simple French braid, but it was carefully woven with small, lovely strands. Gerard was broken from his thoughts by his mother's outburst and tried to smile as he felt the braid ghost against his back.

Eliza smiled as she looked at Gerard's reflection in the mirror, her expression happy, yet wistful as tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. “You look so beautiful and grown up! I can't believe that my baby girl is finally old enough to go to her first party!”

Gerard tried not to let the remark sting. But the words branded themselves into his skin like they were on the end of a hot iron. He tried, like he had many times before, to block out the voice of the Devil, to stop him from trying to lure Gerard into that sinful sense of comfort. It was just wrong to indulge those kinds of thoughts. Still, He whispered, _“You're not her baby girl, you're her son.”_

“Oh, stop it mom,” Gerard managed, trying to play the part of a loving daughter going to her first boy-girl party who was being embarrassed by her overly emotional mother. Gerard tried to pretend like they were actors in a scene from an 80s movie. It was easier that way- to pretend like he was playing someone else rather than think about the fact that he felt like a stranger in his own body.

“Can you blame me, though?” his mother said as she rested her hands on Gerard's bare shoulders. “You're nearly sixteen now! Pretty soon you'll be learning how to drive and dating boys and looking for colleges. You're my oldest child and my only girl! You can’t blame me for being a tad sentimental.”

Gerard managed to construct a smile out of the broken pieces that had been collecting in his chest. “I promise that I'll never leave you, Mom- I'll graduate high school and live in the basement forever.”

His mother laughed as she brushed the tears away. “That sounds fine by me, as long as you learn how to do your own laundry.”

Gerard tried to manage a convincing laugh in response. He kept his smile plastered as his mother continued to fuss over him, adjusting his dress straps, smoothing down fly-away hairs, adjusting the chain of his necklace. Just as Gerard thought that his mother was finally going to leave him alone and give him twenty minutes of peace before the party started she asked, “Honey, what time did Frank say they would be here again?”

Gerard knew it was just supposed to be an innocent question, but there was an edge of sweetness in her voice, a lilting of the words that hinted something unsaid. He recognized it right away. It was something that his mother had been doing ever since he hit puberty, gently pushing him and Frank together. They were best friends after all, and it was only common knowledge that boys and girls could only be friends for so long before they eventually fell madly in love with each other.

Perhaps, in a different life, Gerard would've been okay with that. But he knew better. There was a certain kind of love that he had for Frank, the kind of love the surpassed lifetimes and lived on through poetry and song. At fifteen, Gerard was madly in love with his best friend. A part of him secretly hoped sometimes that Frank felt that too, the pulsing energy that swelled between them when they were together. But another part of him hoped that he didn't.

As much as Gerard loved Frank, he knew that even if the feelings were mutual, Frank could never love him the way that Gerard wanted him to. He knew that Frank would see one thing and he would always be another and he couldn't stand that. So he did his best to try to shut down the butterflies that swarmed in his chest at his mother's words. But his cheeks still reddened and he knew that once again, his skin had given him away.

“Six,” Gerard replied curtly, not acknowledging his mother's obvious weirdness as he pretended to inspect himself in the mirror.

“I'm so glad that you have a friend like him,” Eliza gushed as she went around, tidying up Gerard's room, trying to find an excuse to stay longer and continue conversation. “He's such a good boy.”

Gerard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew the subtext beneath his mother's words. What she actually meant was, “ _I think that you should marry your childhood best friend because that's what good, Christian girls do._ ” There was also something deeper beneath her words, a dark sort of edge that had been there ever since he and Frank were kids. When they used to play house, both of them insisted on being the dad and were perfectly okay with it, much to the horror of their parents. Somehow, Gerard's mother knew something. Whether it was about his gender or Frank's sexuality, Gerard could tell that his mother wanted him and Frank to get together because to her, it would make both of them “normal.”

Gerard had heard enough bits and pieces of conversations between her and Frank's mother, Mary, to confirm these suspicions. But he didn't say anything about it to anyone. Especially not to Frank. It was awful knowing that your own mother thought that she could “fix” you. He could carry that burden alone.

Instead of acknowledging what he knew, Gerard just smiled and said in a sugary sweet voice, “Yes, mother, Frank is very good _friend_ to me. The best friend actually.”

“Well, I know that he'll look after you tonight,” his mother said as she fluffed the pillows on Gerard's bed for the sixth time.

Gerard tried not to groan. His mother was so worried about Gerard going to this party, afraid that he was going to be corrupted by the other rowdy freshman. He could just see his mother picturing Gerard being coerced into some drug and alcohol fueled satanic orgy, since that's what all of the kids are doing at parties these days according to the 700 Club.

Eliza had to be convinced by Mary, who was convinced by Frank to let Gerard come to the party. Even then, it had taken a few days, a little bit of bribery, and the promise of to attending extra Bible studies from Gerard to finally wear Eliza down enough to give in completely. Gerard didn't even want to go to Patrick’s stupid party, but Frank had seemed so excited and insisted that they go together. Gerard had been so lost in Frank's brown puppy-dog eyes that he had agreed without giving it much thought.

Now, however, as he stood in that ugly red dress in front of the mirror, a hard lump in his throat where an Adam’s apple could've been, Gerard just wanted to curl up in his bed and pretend that he had come down with leprosy or something so he didn't have to go.

“Mother, I don't need anybody looking after me. I can take care of myself,” Gerard said, irritated, as he crossed his arms across his chest. He hated when his mother acted as if he was weak and some damsel that needed to constantly be protected and doted upon by men. Even if he wasn't transgender, he still would've found the notion ridiculous, outdated, and irritating (like most things his mother said).

“You say that now, but in a few years you'll change your mind,” his mother promised with a knowing grin before finally walking out the door with Gerard's dirty laundry basket in hand.

After she left, Gerard plopped down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, a feeling of helplessness settling over him. He really didn't want to go to this party, especially in a dress (even if it was cute, it just wasn’t _on him_ ). He knew that it was going to be boring and someone was probably going to make them play spin the bottle and the last thing that he wanted to do was kiss random boys. He wasn't exactly comfortable being forced to lock lips with his classmates, especially if Frank was going to be among them.

But Gerard had already promised Frank and he would be a shitty best friend if he backed out twenty minutes before the party started. As Gerard was moping, his phone lit up with a message from Frank.

 **Frankie:** _Which one should I wear? Red or green?_

Underneath the text were two pictures of Frank wearing the same button-up dress shirt in two different colors. Gerard tried not to notice how adorable Frank looked in the pictures, his dark hair a mess and the corner of his mouth quirked up lazily as he looked at the camera.

 **Gee:** _The red one looks better on you. Plus I'm wearing the same color so we can match. ;) Also, why do you have two of the same shirt?_

Gerard responded quickly and Frank's reply popped up almost immediately after he did, making Gerard smile.

 **Frankie:** _Sweet! Then you'll officially be my date. ;) Mom bought me them for church clothes because apparently wearing the same shirt every Sunday is “disrespectful,” as if God gives a shit which shirt I wear to fucking mass. She thought that she was being clever when she bought multiple versions of the same shirt. I also have a blue one and a yellow one._

Gerard kicked himself for blushing as he read the text. He couldn't allow himself to think about Frank possibly liking him back. Once he indulged hope, he truly was a goner.

They texted back and forth for a while until Frank declared that he was leaving his house and that they would pick Gerard up in about five minutes. Those five minutes without distraction were spent staring into the mirror contemplating ripping off the dress and throwing on the t-shirt and skinny jeans that Gerard had originally intended on wearing. But his mother's eyes had lit up when she finally accepted the idea of the party and had taken Gerard out and bought a dress, this dreamy look in her eyes.

Gerard couldn't deny her the false sense of security and had indulged her delusion. There was no way that he could give up halfway through and not hurt his mother's feelings. He just had to be her human dress-up doll for a few more years and then he could wear his skinny jeans as much as he wanted...

Soon, the doorbell was ringing and Gerard was rushing down the stairs. He wanted to get there before his mother so he and Frank could leave before she decided that she wanted to take some incredibly cheesy pictures of them standing in front of the fireplace that she could then put on Facebook to mortify her child.

However, he was already too late as he discovered when he got downstairs and both Eliza and Mary had their cameras out and ready. Gerard and Frank shared an irritated look before their mothers ushered them outside where they insisted on taking about twenty pictures apiece.

Once the picture-taking-debacle was over, Gerard climbed into the backseat of Mary’s minivan where Frank lumbered in after him. Frank gave him a headphone and they both listened to Frank's iPod in the twenty-minute drive to Patrick’s house. They took turns picking songs and talking quietly to each other as Mary watched the two of them in her rearview mirror, a small smile on her face.

The two didn't notice, however, lost in their own little world.

-

Gerard decided that a satanic orgy would've been much more exciting than the actual party itself. When they got there, Frank abandoned him almost immediately to go play foosball with Ray and some of the other guys. This left Gerard to fume in the corner over how much of a traitor his best friend was as he pretended to be interested in a conversation that Cass was having with him about brands of nail polish. Cass was sweet and she and Gerard had always been friends, but she had a tendency to talk a lot, so much so that sometimes she didn't even notice that the other person in the conversation wasn't talking at all and she was virtually speaking to herself. Gerard knew that the reason that they had been friends for so long wasn't because they were two peas in a pod that complimented each other's personalities. Cass just liked having someone to project onto. Gerard didn't mind, though. He had Frank anyway.

They only talked in passing, at school functions, at parties. Their friendship was a casual one, but they had always gotten along well. Though they never really scratched the surface with each other, it was enough to do small talk. Usually, Gerard could do this with ease, dropping in a few remarks here and there, letting Cass do most of the talking. Usually, she never picked up on Gerard's deliberate quietness, but that night she noticed it immediately.

“Are you… okay, Gina? You seem a little… off,” Cass noted in a concerned tone.

Gerard tried to mask his surprise at Cass turning the conversation to something other than herself and smiled. “Y-yeah, I'm fine.”

But Gerard was not fine. Cass narrowed her eyes at him and gave him a look that saw right through him. God, girls were so annoyingly perceptive and persistent. That's why he preferred to hang out with guys- if they ever picked up that something was wrong, they just ignored it and let things be. But girls, girls always seemed to be looking for something to go wrong so they either had something to talk about or swoop down and try to fix.

“You are totally lying,” Cass observed as she leaned forward in her bean bag chair. “Tell me what's up.”

Gerard sighed and shook his head, his braid brushing against his back, eyes still trained towards Frank who was totally winning at foosball. “Cass, everything is fi-”

Cass’ eyes widened as she followed Gerard's gaze and suddenly said, “It's Frank, isn't it?”

Gerard looked down at the carpet and sputtered, “N-no! No!” But his traitorous face turned bright red and gave him away.

Cass grinned, but it wasn't in a mean way. It was full of understanding and compassion, a kind of warmth that Gerard had never seemed to have. “You totally like him, don't you?” she coaxed, lowering her voice.

Gerard closed his eyes and leaned back in the beanbag. He tried to sigh heavily, but his dress constructed the movements of his chest and it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, he became hyper aware of how itchy the fabric was, how the skirt never felt long enough and the neckline felt like it was _too_ long. Gerard felt like he was sitting underneath a spotlight as Cass’ gaze washed over him, all of his insecurities highlighted.

Gerard just shook his head and puffed up his cheeks in exasperation. “No, I don't, okay?”

Cass just kept grinning. “You totally like him.”

Nothing Gerard could say would convince her otherwise, so he let her try to give him advice, pointers on making a move, ways to flirt. He sat there in unaffected silence but he really had no intention of actually following any of Cass’ advice. Eventually, Gerard was saved when Frank came over to him and recounted all of the details of his epic foosball conquest. Cass left to go find her boyfriend, a boy Gerard had met multiple times but could never remember the name of. Relief flooded his chest as Frank bumped their knees together and started going on and on about his newest hyper-fixation. Frank always did most of the talking but with him, Gerard’s silence was different. It was comfortable and contemplative rather than a protective shield.

When Gerard was with Frank, he always felt so… _normal_. Frank didn't treat him like a girl, and he didn't treat him like a boy either. He just treated him like a person. There was no awkwardness, no distance, just a strange kind of understanding that never pressed or expected Gerard to change. Even when he started growing boobs and was forced to wear dresses...

There was something between them that felt so much greater than everything. It felt bigger than love, the Devil, or even God. It was like a complex story, waiting to be played out, curving delicately across what was once a naked page. Gerard knew that what they had was special and he didn't want to ruin it. At least, that's what he told himself.

But the Devil just chuckled in Gerard's ear, hot breath sending shivers across his neck. There was more to Gerard's hiding, more than he was willing to admit. If he thought about it too much, he felt the words building up in his mouth, like a confession or an apology. He felt them falling down and landing at Frank's feet, rattling and breaking against the concrete and shattering like his last remnants of hope.

Avoidance and denial, it seemed, were the only possible solutions. So Gerard glumly stared at the clock as he watched Frank walk over to the refreshments table to get them sodas. He stifled a groan as he realized that he had nearly three hours of the party left.

The desire to suddenly fake a deadly stomach virus so he could go home had been present all night (all 45 minutes of it). However, this desire was heightened when Cass shut off the music and quickly called everyone to attention as she declared that they were going to play Seven Minutes In Heaven.

He could tell by the way that Cass winked at him that this whole thing was deliberate. Especially when Pete and Ray got Frank to sit next to them in the circle, directly across from Gerard. Now, Gerard truly just wanted to sit back on the couch and watch, claiming that he was just trying to save his lip-virginity for the right guy. But he knew that he would just look like a loser if he did that. So he begrudgingly sat down, arms crossed over his chest.

There was an odd number of people at the party, so Gerard hoped and prayed that the bottle didn't land on him. He sat in simmering silence for the next thirty minutes, watching as kids spun the bottle and then sauntered off to the small closet in the corner that Patrick’s family used for storage. Some of them walked with confidence, others anxiousness, but the one thing that they had in common was their obvious desire to appear “cool.” They were going to be Sophomores in high school for crying out loud!

In fact, the only reason that alcohol hadn't been snuck into the party was that Patrick’s parents had organized the whole thing and were listening intently upstairs, no doubt waiting for the barest hints of a drug-fueled satanic orgy to come barreling down the stairs, Bibles and crucifixes in hand.

The whole ordeal seemed so forced and desperate, an obvious attempt at maintaining a façade of togetherness that not a single one of them actually possessed. It was an unspoken thing, but everyone knew it. Each person secretly believed that they were odd, or a freak and that they needed to bend their bones to fit in with everyone else. That's just how high school was. But Gerard knew with utmost certainty that he truly was a freak. As he sat there, in his lacy dress and sparkly sandals, he felt like the biggest fake of them all. His own face was a mask that he was forced to wear against his own volition. It should've been comforting, knowing that everyone was as scared and insecure as he was, but it only made it worse. It only made him feel more alone.

Gerard was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Cass and Patrick whispering back and forth to each other as the bottle slowly made its way around the circle. Their eyes flicked back and forth between him and Frank every so often, plotting and scheming. He also didn't notice as the people around him began to whisper too, the edges of the circle slowly pulling back until there were only a handful of people surrounding Gerard.

When Frank's turn came, Gerard was hardly paying any attention and was only brought back to Earth when he noticed how oddly quiet the room was. He looked around him, startled to see that the entire group had moved away so that only he and Frank were sitting there. Gerard looked down at the bottle, it's nozzle pointed to him and resisted the urge to scream.

The whole thing had been rigged from the beginning. All of this a part of some misguided plan to get Gerard and Frank together. Gerard was immediately furious and mortified all at once as a low chorus of giggles began to erupt around him. He wanted to stomp up the basement stairs and out of the house, to somewhere that wasn't here, with a whole room of people staring at him. It all felt like a cruel joke being played on him by the universe and he wanted no part in it.

But then he made the mistake of looking at Frank, whose eyes were wide and fearful and knew that he had to stay. They had to do this together. Still, the two of them sat motionless, staring at each other, unsure of what to do.

However, it was obvious what they had to do when Pete spoke up and made the choice for them. “Come on, Frank! You have to go kiss her! Those are the rules,” he insisted loudly, causing the room to erupt into more laughter.

Frank looked down at the floor and stammered, “I-I d-don't really-”

“Come on, man! Are you like… _gay_ or something?”

Everyone knew that it was just a joke. But there was a sharpness to it that only Gerard and Frank head. The kind of edge that only appeared when the comment had to potential to shatter everything that you had ever known. Deep down, both of them had always known. However, it was different, hearing it out loud. Admitting it not just to yourself but to everyone else around you was a whole other matter entirely. There was a whole new kind of shame in that. It meant embracing the Devil, letting him settle into your skin and take over your bones and your heart.

You could hold it inside your whole life and know it, with the utmost certainty. But it wasn't truly a sin if one never truly acted on it, just simply repressed and never put to words. That way there was no worrying about eternal hellfire or disappointing one's parents. Though they were basically the same thing...

“No!” Frank exclaimed, far too loudly, far too defensively. Gerard could see it on his face that he knew it, too. Another chorus of laughter met Frank's mortification as Gerard's head spun.

“Then just admit that you're madly in love with Gina and get in the closet,” Cass chimed in.

Now Gerard knew that she came from a good place, but this whole ordeal was actually incredibly stressful and embarrassing. On one hand, he had his own feelings and desires. His mind telling him that kissing Frank was not exactly something that he would be opposed to doing. But on the other, there was Frank's obvious discomfort at the prospect of not only kissing a girl, but his best friend at that. If Frank said “No” again and refused, then the entire room would most likely jump to their own conclusions and that was just not an option for him. It meant sacrificing his comfort, his safety, and his denial. Gerard could see it in his eyes, how petrified he was. Still, his eyes found Gerard's, full of worry and concern.

They had a silent conversation with each other while the rest of the room debated and talked amongst themselves, waiting for a reply. This was something they did regularly, speaking without words or language. It was something they had done since they were kids and had always baffled their mothers. Even then, they had always been in sync.

Silently he asked, _“Are you okay? Is this making you uncomfortable?”_

Gerard replied back, _“I’m fine, don't worry about me.”_

Frank was so kind and gentle, with a brightness to him that was wasted on Gerard. Frank was always taking care of him, making sure that he was okay, making sure that he was safe. But Gerard rarely ever took care of Frank. The realization hit him as he sat there, watching Frank, so vulnerable and afraid. And it was suddenly very clear what he had to do.

So Gerard made up his mind. He pulled himself up from the ground, walked over to Frank and murmured something to him that the rest of the room couldn't hear: “It's okay, I'll do this for you.”

Then he grabbed his hand and walked towards the closet. Much to Gerard's surprise, he didn't pull away.

They were both shaking.

Gerard was the one who opened the door, turning the knob in his sweaty palm, trying to fight down the rapid beating of his heart. The room erupted in a dull cheer (as to not alert Patrick’s parents) the minute that the door closed. Though they both knew that nothing was going to happen, Gerard fumbled for the lock anyway. It just felt necessary to have that kind of privacy if they were going to be forced into this.

The minute the door closed, they were plunged into darkness and it was only by memory that Gerard managed to get the lock turned. Frank was trying to find the pull cord for the light when Gerard moved forward and smacked into him.

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” Gerard exclaimed as Frank grasped onto the shelving unit against wall and tried to steady himself.

Frank laughed quietly, “It’s okay, Gee.”

_Gee._

It felt so good to hear that come out of Frank's mouth. Everyone else called him “Gina” but Frank was the only who ever called him “Gee.” It had started when they were kids, playing house together. When they would both play the dads, Gerard would insist on being called “Gee” and it had just stuck. Everyone had assumed it was just a nickname and nothing more.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate my name?” Gerard said suddenly.

“No, why?”

“It's just so… ugly. So common. It just doesn't fit me.”

“I don't think it fits you either. I never thought of you as a “Gina” anyway. Just Gee.”

“I wish I could be just Gee,” he murmured sadly.

Frank's hand managed to find his in the dark, fingers intertwining, comforting. Again, they spoke without words. But this time they didn't even have their eyes to read from. They just had their heartbeats thumping in the quiet under labored breaths. Gerard knew that Frank knew, but neither of them said anything. Like always.

Gerard had to reassure himself that Frank holding his hand was merely platonic. They did this all the time. For a few moments, they just held each other's hands in silence, the whispering outside the door evident. Cass was probably sitting there with a timer, counting down the minutes. The entire party was probably trying to listen to what was going on in the closet. But they would never know. What happened in there would only be between the two of them.

This sudden thought made Gerard brave. It made his heart race faster as he felt the words on the tip of his tongue. It was stupid, the desire to voice all of it. They both already knew, so there was no use going through the trouble of trying to find the right words. But the Devil was stronger. He needed to be seen, to be heard.

“I've never told anyone that before,” Gerard admitted. “Not even you, and you're my best friend.”

Frank's sweaty palm squeezed his. “You know that you can always tell me anything. I won't judge you or run away,” he said soothingly, a smile in his voice.

“I know it's just… there are some things that I… don't think that I should say out loud. Because even though you know what they are, and I know what they are, it's not really... _real_ until you say it, right?” Gerard's voice rose to a shaky crescendo, as his heart fell flat in his chest, sinking with the weight of denial.

“Gee, I-”

“As long as I hold it in, it can't hurt me. As long as I hold it in, it's not real. That’s what you do, isn't it?”

Frank was quiet for a moment before he let out a shaky sigh. “Y-yeah, it is. But that doesn't mean that it's _healthy_ , Gee. You have to get it out.”

Gerard shook his head, even though he knew that Frank couldn't see him. “I know that, Frankie. But you can't tell me that when you're doing the same thing to yourself.”

Gerard could practically feel Frank's frown in the dark and pictured the way his brown eyes clouded over and his expression fell into itself. He almost felt bad, but he knew that it needed to be said.

“I guess, you're right,” Frank admitted, his tone deflated as he took a step closer to Gerard as if to make sure that he wasn't preparing to run away. After a shaky breath, Frank continued. “It's just hard, you know? Carrying something inside you that feels so big and not being able to talk about it. I know that you're safe to tell these things too, but I can't even bring myself to say it to you because then it's out and I know how good it feels to say it. But part of doesn’t want to get used to saying it. I don't want it to feel normal when what I am will never _be_ normal.”

Gerard pulled Frank close to him in the dark, his arms wrapping him in a hug, bodies melding together like two lines of prose. They were both shaking as they stood in the darkness, the irony of their situation completely going over both of their heads as they tried to hold each other together.

Gerard could hear Frank’s breathing start to catch and knew that he was crying against his chest. Suddenly, Gerard was filled with a fiery combination of grief and rage. He wanted to punch the lights out of every person who had ever made Frank feel inhuman. However, it would prove a bit difficult to punch out God, so Gerard was forced to settle, words bubbling up to the surface in a frustrated rush.

“Well, who gets to decide what “normal” is anyway? It seems like the only people who give a flying fuck what normal is are the ones who most uncomfortable with who they are. “Normal” was made up by some assholes who wanted to create a divide between themselves and anyone who was different. Being different isn't bad, Frankie.”

“I know, it's just… I'm so afraid, Gee.”

“Me too.”

As Frank's head rested on his chest, Gerard could hear the Devil whispering in his ear again, but this time, the voice was softer. Afterall, he always had a way of being so gentle, so persuasive. Whereas God was so loud and angry, the Devil, despite his slyness, spoke to Gerard like an old friend. That's what made it even worse.

Soon, Gerard found the Devil taking him over, speaking through him. And this time, he didn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it. He wanted peace, he wanted release. If such release came in the form of fire or sin, then Gerard could be okay with that, at least at that moment. Surrounded by the darkness and quiet, they were in their own little world. It was as if they were in some kind of limbo, stuck between consciousness and dreaming, between action and indecision. So Gerard decided that the truth needed to be let out, in one way or another.

“How about we make a deal, Frankie?” Gerard propositioned. “I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours. We don't have to talk about it after we leave here, but at least we'll have said it. At least we'll have gotten it out.”

They were still holding each other as he spoke, Frank’s hands still rested on Gerard's hips. It was as if Frank were afraid that if he didn't hold onto something, he would float away into the darkness. Gerard was glad that they were in the dark so Frank couldn't see him blush.

“Okay.”

Gerard could hear all of the fear in Frank's voice from that one simple word. It broke his heart, but he couldn't say so. “How about this: we skip all of the fluff and bullshit and just say it- one sentence, short and simple. I'll go first.”

Gerard closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then said. “I'm a boy. I-I’m transgender.”

He waited for something big to happen. For a bolt of lightning to strike down and smite him, perhaps. But nothing happened and God was silent like he always was. But the Devil spoke to him all the time and was with him always. At that moment, though, he was silent, too. The words landed in the air with a soft kind of finality. Though it should've felt wrong to say something like that, Gerard could only feel a weight rising from his chest. Frank didn't say anything for a while as he digested it. Letting the truth click with the obvious signs that had been shown over the years, no doubt.

“Wow, that's-” Frank began, but Gerard cut him off.

“You don't need to make me feel better, Frankie. Just tell me your truth now, no fluff, okay?”

Another shaky breath was released before Frank said, “Okay. Well, I um… I’m bisexual.”

Gerard gave him a few moments of silence before he spoke again. “There, now it's out there and we don't have to talk about it anymore.”

He didn't say any more, but they both knew what Gerard was actually saying. It was hidden underneath his nonchalance: _“Now we don't have to carry the weight alone.”_

“But what if I _want_ to talk about it, Gee? What if I want to tell you about all of the boys I think about kissing but then have to stop and tell myself how wrong that's supposed to feel? What if it doesn't feel wrong, though? What if it feels right?”

Gerard could feel his eyes burning with tears he didn't want to shed. He knew the pain of repressing it all, of telling oneself that what the heart and soul wanted was merely sin that could never be acted upon. He knew it all too well.

“I- but it's supposed to be wrong. All of it is. That’s what our parents say, that's what God says-”

“But I don't give a flying fuck what God says, Gee! I don't even know if there _is_ a God. If He was real, don't you think He would've been better to us? Why would any God who was supposedly all-powerful and loving make us live like this, in a town where two boys can't even hold hands without starting a riot with parents who only love the people we pretend to be to keep ourselves safe? Fuck _God!”_ Frank seethed, his voice shaking.

Gerard knew that the anger wasn't directed towards him, but towards a world that couldn't care less about them. It was a kind of anger that he was too afraid to let himself feel, to let himself show. Just another aftershock of his childhood, hiding every emotion that was deemed to be “unpleasant” or “unladylike.” Frank, on the other hand, had always been raw, passionate, and real. From his joy to his grief, he had always been so open about what he was feeling. Which made holding in this secret even more taxing and devastating.

Gerard couldn't offer any words that would make him feel better, so he just pulled Frank close again, arms wrapping around his shoulders, head falling to his chest. Frank sighed lightly as they fell into each other, tears falling freely and quietly.

“You know, I'm really glad that I have you, Gee,” Frank murmured as his chin rested on the top of Gerard's head. The butterflies shouldn't have exploded in his chest the way that they did, but he couldn't hold them back. “You're what keeps me together sometimes.”

“I feel the same way about you,” Gerard whispered back. And just when he thought that silence was going to take over again, Frank spoke suddenly.

“Thanks for doing this for me. I know that it's all so weird and that you didn't even want to come to this stupid party- but I'm glad you're here.”

“Hey, we wouldn't be partners in crime if I bailed every time you wanted to do something I didn't. Besides, someone needs to keep you from making out with random boys- in closets,” Gerard teased.

“Aw, does that make you jealous?” Frank chided back.

Gerard's eyes widened and a lump formed in his throat as he thought, _“Yes.”_

“Sure, Frank, I am totally into you,” Gerard quipped trying not to let the truth seep through in his voice.

“See, I always knew that there was something more between us, Way.”

“Shut up,” Gerard said with a chuckle as he swung at what he hoped was Frank's arm. It actually proved to be his rib, but the result was satisfying as his best friend yelped slightly and jumped back, knocking over a coat rack. This caused them both to erupt into giggles.

They were quiet for a moment before Frank turned serious again. “Can I tell you another secret?” It was softer and unreadable. Gerard's heart leaped in his chest once more, jumping to conclusions.

“Sure,” Gerard murmured, trying to sound nonchalant.

“It's really weird seeing you in a dress.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, telling himself that he should have known better. Of course Frank would take the first opportunity to change the subject. He could stand dwelling on serious topics too long before he started to do all he could to avoid them. “I know, Frankie, don't remind me. I was just going to wear a flannel and jeans but my mom got carried away. I hate it but she loves it so I felt like I had to wear it for her. To make her happy, I guess? Or to prove that I'm not what she's afraid that I am? I don't know. I just feel like such a freak.”

“Red is a good color on you, though,” he supplied, trying to make Gerard feel better. When Gerard didn't say anything, Frank sighed, admitting defeat. “You know that you're not a freak, right? Just because your parents are too blind to accept you for who you are doesn't mean that there's something wrong with you. Believe me, I know. You're absolutely perfect, Gee”

Gerard could feel himself blushing again, though he knew it was ridiculous now. He could feel his heart hammering away, afraid that Frank would hear it. There was another secret that Gerard wanted to get out while they were surrounded by darkness and quiet. A secret that he had held inside him for far longer than any other. It seemed as good a time as any to finally say it, while they were trapped in their own private limbo together.

_But I just want to be perfect for you._

However, just before Gerard could say anything, a harsh knock at the door ripped them from their quiet little world. “Hey! You guys have been in there for like twenty minutes! You better not be fucking in there!” Pete shouted.

Frank just chuckled as Gerard shook his head. While Gerard fumbled for the lock, Frank grabbed his free hand and twined their fingers together. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he said, “Well, Gerard, I think it's time for us to come out of the closet.”

Gerard laughed- the bubbly, easy kind of laugh that fills up your chest and makes your head feel fuzzy. Despite all of the brokenness, things were okay, if only for a moment.

-

_THREE YEARS LATER_

“Frank?” Gerard called, as he stared at his reflection in the vanity, soft skin cast with a honey-colored glow from the large round bulbs inset in the frame. It was the fancy and expensive kind of vanity that movie stars had in their dressing rooms. Gerard often wondered why his mother had insisted on getting such an ornate mirror displayed in their bathroom. Maybe it made her feel like a movie star, looking at herself in that gaudy vanity every time she sat down to take a piss.

Gerard's reflection stared back at him, soft and alien. Long eyelashes, scared eyes, hunched shoulders. He didn't hate his reflection necessarily or his appearance. But whenever he looked in the mirror, he didn't feel like he was seeing himself. The Devil murmured in his ear once more as Gerard's eyes studied his long brown hair, spilling over his shoulders, nearly covering his tightly bound breasts. His voice had gotten louder, recently. But Gerard couldn't bring himself to be scared by that thought.

Frank poked his head up from behind the other end of the bathroom counter at the mention of his name. He was busy gathering supplies out of his duffle bag as Gerard squirmed impatiently in the chair. “Yeah, Gerard?”

“Do ever look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back at you?”

“Not really. But I know how it feels to have people look at you and see one thing when you're really another,” Frank said as he walked over to the vanity, supplies in hand. They had been doing this a lot over the past few years- talking about their problems without really talking about them.

It just felt safer that way. That way, no one could eavesdrop and find themselves in possession of a secret that wasn't theirs to tell. That way, they could still deny that they both felt like they were drowning while still barely keeping themselves afloat. Gerard sighed as Frank wrapped a towel around his neck, carefully pulling Gerard’s hair out from beneath it. Gerard tried to ignore how Frank's fingers brushed against his skin, lingering just a second too long. Though perhaps it was his imagination. When a boy is in love with someone for nearly a decade, he starts to overanalyze small things like that...

After Gerard was adequately covered, Frank situated himself behind the chair, hairbrush in hand. He wet it underneath the tap before he started to brush Gerard’s long hair, slowly and gently. Everything about Frank was gentle and careful, slow and precise.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this,” Gerard said with a smile as their eyes lock in the mirror.

Frank grinned back, his movements not even faltering. “No problem! I would've been an idiot to not only pass up helping out my best bro but also an opportunity to show off my amazing skills.”

That was another one of their secrets- Frank desperately wanted to be a hairdresser after they graduated high school. It had been a dream of his since they were kids and he used to cut Gerard's hair with his tiny orange pair of safety scissors (much to the dismay of their mothers). But Frank's family had teased him relentlessly about it, especially his father who said that it was something that “only girls and fags did.” So, like many other things, he hid it from them.

He and Gerard had worked out a deal a long time ago that Gerard would let Frank practice on him every time he needed a trim, vowing that if Frank screwed up, he would have to pay for Gerard's salon trip. But he never did. Frank cut hair like a pro, leaving no uneven layers or split ends. He knew how to do it so well that it even looked professional, enough to convince Gerard's mom that he had gone to the shop down the street and gotten it done like he always said.

This time was different, though. Gerard wasn't just asking for a trim, he was asking for something far more drastic. It was new territory for both of them, but they were both willing to rise up to the challenge.

Gerard bit his lip as Frank finished up brushing and set it down on the counter, his eyes dancing with anxiousness. Frank noticed this as he started to spritz Gerard's hair with a spray bottle, and gave him a gentle smile.

“You're gonna look great, Gerard. I promise I won't give you a mullet or anything like that. You'll be the most handsome boy in school after I'm done with you.”

Gerard turned bright red and had to look away. “Not as handsome as you,” he teased as he tried to maintain his composure.

Frank chuckled. “Now you're just flattering me! What's the ulterior motive, Way? You think that you can charm me into doing this haircut for free?”

Gerard smiled while Frank combed his fingers through Gerard's wet hair. “Yes, because I am your best friend and you love me.”

Frank chuckled. “I am going to be the poorest hairdresser ever if I let pretty boys talk me into giving them free haircuts.”

Gerard's eyes widened and dropped to his lap. He was quiet and still as Frank pulled out his scissors and started to cut Gerard's hair. It was both mortification and awe that made Gerard go silent. He soon forgot his embarrassment though as he felt a weight lifting and falling away. He could feel chunks of hair sliding off the towel, slipping onto the floor.

It was a brief feeling of weightlessness that he felt with every snip of Frank’s scissors. He lifted his eyes and watched in the mirror as chunks of feathery brown hair floated down to the floor. At the mercy of Frank’s scissors, Gerard saw a new version of himself taking shape. He closed his eyes until Frank finished, letting the pieces fall away with wide eyes watching them anxiously, afraid and thrilled all at once. There was a small sliver of doubt that he was just building this all up in his head and the minute that things started to become real, he would change his mind. But as he eyes slid open, Frank's gentle hands on his shoulders, Gerard knew that he wouldn't.

The face in the mirror was his own but it seemed different, changed by the carefully cut swoop of his bangs and short, intricate layers. Gerard should've seen a stranger in the mirror staring back but the person inside looked more familiar to the version of himself he wanted to grow into. Tears started to build up at the corners of his eyes as he stared at his reflection. Frank watched in the mirror and wore an anticipated expression. Gerard couldn't speak for a few moments as a lump formed in his throat.

“So… do you like it?”

Gerard could only nod wordlessly as his eyes filled up with tears. Frank stood back and let him cry, a patient smile on his face. He knew how important this was to Gerard, so he gave him the time to process it, to celebrate, to grieve. Frank always seemed to know exactly what Gerard needed, even before he did.

As Gerard marveled at his new haircut, Frank cleaned up the bathroom, sweeping up hair and putting things away. All the while Gerard sat in the chair, transfixed with his reflection, fingers roaming over his newly shortened locks as if to make sure that it was all real. He did it with an awed, childlike wonder overtaken by the kind of bliss that can only be experienced when a person truly accepts themselves for the first time. For that one moment, there was no shame or fear, just curiosity, and joy. It wasn't evil or shameful like their parents had taught them. It was absolutely beautiful.

After they were finished in the bathroom, Gerard tugged on Frank's wrist and lead him to his bedroom where they sat together on Gerard's bedspread. His fingers ghosted up to his neck as he felt the short ends of his hair, his bare skin. He waited for that feeling that usually comes after a haircut, where it still felt as if the weight was still there, ghosting against the back of his neck and holding him down. But he didn't feel it at all.

Frank looked at Gerard's expression and grinned. “You look so handsome,” he said through his smile.

Gerard blushed and looked away, fighting back the butterflies. “You're lying,” Gerard replied, in complete disbelief.

Frank put a gentle hand under Gerard’s chin and guided his face so they were facing each other once more. “Cross my heart,” he murmured.

Gerard's eyes clouded over as he remembered something that had been buried in the back of his mind, distant and far away. “You remember when we were kids and we used to play house? And we both fought over who got to be the dad every day until we decided that we both wanted to be dads? Then when our moms found out they gave us a huge lecture about how girls marry boys and that God made us the way we are for a reason and some stupid shit like that?”

Frank's expression softened as he realized what Gerard was thinking. “Yeah, but then we both kept being dads when our moms weren't paying attention,” he recalled with a sad smile.

“Oh, and do you remember how you proposed to me with a ring made out of bread ties underneath the apple tree? Back then, you asked me to be your wife because that's how our parents told us God liked it.”

Frank laughed softly. “I still have my engagement ring, you know. I'm still waiting on our bouncy castle wedding, Way.”

Gerard tried to smile but he couldn't bring himself to do. He couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to. He waited for the Devil to start whispering again, but he was silent. Gerard wasn't quite sure what that meant. “Frank, I have to ask you a serious question.”

“Sure, Gee. What's up?”

Gerard closed his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath. “Would you still want to marry me now?”

Frank looked at him puzzled, but it only lasted for a second when he realized what Gerard was implying. He took Gerard’s hand and smiled, the kind of smile that made everything softer and better. “Gerard Way, if I weren't eighteen and still in high school, I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

Gerard gazed at Frank's warm smile and felt his heart skip a happy rhythm in his sternum.

“Really? Even though I'm…” Gerard let Frank fill in the blanks and dropped his eyes to stare at the stitching of the ugly pink comforter his mother had bought him for Christmas.

Frank gave Gerard's hand a gentle squeeze. “One day I'm going to marry you. I promise. And we'll get a house and have eight dogs and six kids and we’ll be the best dads ever.”

“Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought,” Gerard mused.

“That's how it always was when we played house as kids! We always had twenty stray dogs we took in from the street and six kids that we adopted. And I think all of them had names that started with ‘D.’”

“Hey, you're forgetting the pet unicorn!”

“You know, I think we were really unrealistic back then. What family has six kids, nowadays?”

Gerard laughed as he fell back onto his bed, giddy and peaceful for the first time in a long while. The Devil's voice still echoed in Gerard’s mind, even after years had gone by. Nowadays, he was quieter, if Gerard heard him at all. His voice had started to merge with Gerard's own and he wasn't sure if he could quite tell them apart anymore. A part of him was relieved, happy even. There was no shame in him anymore. He didn't have the energy to indulge it. 

However, even after he had come so far, it was still hard to talk about it out loud. Frank knew and there was nothing to hide, but they still both skirted around the issue. It was an old way of defending themselves against the outside world, against prayer circles and conversion camps and withering glares from churchgoers. God still frowned down at them, his voice distant and cold, but his presence looming.

Gerard thought about God and the Devil, about Hell and Heaven, as Frank talked about the party they were going to in an hour. Frank rambled on about how Patrick's parents weren't going to be home so someone was sneaking in booze. Gerard's mood became oddly reflective as he got up and started to search for one of his nice flannels that didn't have paint or food stains on them. This mood lasted throughout the night and endured when they arrived at Patrick's party. Frank drove as Gerard fidgeted nervously in the passenger seat. He was afraid of what people were going to say about his hair. What they were going to think. What they were going to assume. Part of him really wanted everyone to know, to be known and seen. But another wanted to hide away forever, free from scrutiny and judgment.

“Gerard,” Frank said firmly as he turned off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition, placing a hand on Gerard's knee. “You look amazing, okay? Like the cutest, queerest boy in the world.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and blushed, then glanced back at Frank who was smiling wickedly. With a sharp pang in his chest, Gerard felt the sudden urge to kiss him. It was an urge he had felt for a long time but had shut down and ignored because that's what God expected of him. He was tired of bottling it all up though. Fueled by the sudden rush of confidence his haircut gave him, Gerard vowed that tonight would be the night where he actually made a move. He knew that he would probably have to drink a lot of alcohol before he was brave enough to actually do it, but he had to do it. He was simply tired of holding back.

It proved easier than usual to get completely and utterly trashed. The minute they walked in, Pete had greeted them and supplied the pair with two bottles of beer. The party had only started thirty minutes prior, but Pete was slurring his words and stumbling around rapidly gyrating bodies. The music made the walls pulsate and the entire house was full of noise. Pete had to shout over the chaos and made some offhand comment about Gerard's haircut and how he might actually get laid now that he was “batting for the other team.” Frank made sure to punch him roughly on the shoulder before he slunk away into the crowd, nursing his arm.

It was a great party, by everyone else's standards. Gerard had always hated parties, but he went along for Frank's sake. So he tried his best to have fun. And before he knew it, he was wasted and tugging Frank down the basement stairs. Much to their surprise, it was fairly empty, save for a couple who were making out on the couch, oblivious to Gerard and Frank’s entrance. Gerard just tugged Frank to that same closet they had told their secrets in all those years before, clumsily locking the door behind them. Like clockwork, Frank stumbled into a shelf and Gerard knocked over a broom. They both erupted in drunken giggles as they blindly pawed through the dark for each other.

“Frank! Where are you?” Gerard squealed as he clung to a storage unit that held many different kinds of canned food items.

“H-here,” Frank said, matter-of-factory as if Gerard could see him.

“Where is ‘here’?”

“Gee, just… follow the sound of my voice.”

Gerard obliged and managed to smack right into Frank, their foreheads crashing together.

“Fuck! Ow...” Frank moaned as he clutched his head.

“I can kiss it better,” Gerard murmured slyly, his words surprisingly even and smooth for someone so drunk. He usually never drank much when Frank dragged him along to these things, but tonight was different. Tonight he needed to be completely gone in order for his plan to work. The alcohol fueled him as his hands managed to find Frank’s waist in the dark.

“B-but we’re _bros,_ Gee,” Frank protested, his words slurring and falling together like a landslide. “Bros can't kiss bros. S’against the like code or somethin’.”

Gerard continued to giggle, his laugh broken up by a series of drunken hiccups. “When have we ever followed the rules? We break rules allll the time! ‘Cause we’re bad boys!”

Gerard's hands slipped a little slower down Frank’s waist, sliding into his back pockets and cupping his ass. Frank made a quiet gasping noise as Gerard pulled him closer, so their chests were pressed together. “And I'mso bad! ‘Cause Imma fucking faggot who wants to kiss his best friend. And I don't care what our moms or God or anyone else has to fuckin’ say ‘bout it.”

“Whattabout what I have’ta say?” Frank asked teasingly as he leaned closer to Gerard.

Gerard made a humming noise in the back of his throat in response.

“Well, I say that I've wanted to make out with you since sixth grade.”

“S’middle school though. You wanted to make out with everything that moved and breathed,” Gerard teased as Frank's breath started to get closer to his neck.

“No, just you,” Frank breathed as he started to press kisses up and down the expanse of Gerard’s neck. His kisses were drunken and sloppy but still feathery light. Gerard let out a soft moan as his lips tingled with anticipation while Frank kissed the corner of his jaw.

Gerard leaned against the shelf as Frank kissed him, up and down his neck. That is, until he kissed a spot near Gerard’s collarbone that made him jump forward knocking into Frank’s face as he erupted into giggles. “I'm ticklish there, Frankie!” he squealed.

Frankie ran his hands over his face quickly to check for blood and when he felt nothing, he put his hands on Gerard’s hips, thumbing the fabric and bunching it up beneath the pads of his fingers. “Sorry, Gee,” he replied with a smile on his voice.

Then Gerard was searching for Frank's lips in the dark, leaning forward to gently collide with his nose. Frank chuckled softly as he whispered, “So close, yet so far away.” Gerard, though he felt like pouting, laughed drunkenly as he brushed his nose against Frank’s.

“How about now?” Gerard murmured as their lips hovered with only the smallest fraction of space left between, radiating heat and want.

“Perfect.”

Gerard had dreamed about kissing Frank for years. He had fantasized about the softness of his lips and how they would taste and the fireworks that would explode the moment that they touched. He had built it up in his head, created something like a scene out of a movie. But reality was less perfect and dramatic.

Frank's lips were slightly chapped and he tasted vaguely like cigarettes thinly masked by peppermint gum and cheap beer. Gerard was clumsy and inexperienced and his drunkenness didn't do him any favors. But Frank’s strong hands gently cupped his face and guided his mouth. Lost in the hypnotic movements of Frank’s lips, Gerard forgot about God, his mother, the Devil, even his own name.

Frank bit his lip gently, tugged on it with a smile that Gerard could feel against his cheeks. Something tore away inside of Gerard as Frank slid his tongue into his mouth, and he felt a familiar weightlessness. The kind that he felt when his hair had fallen from his shoulders and onto the bathroom tiles. It was like being set free.

The world faded to a dull buzz, a faint drone drowned out by the thudding of his heart. The Devil and God were both silent as they pulled away and took a long moment to catch their breath. Their chests rose and fell against each other in the darkness.

Then Gerard felt the Devil working through him, moving his hands towards Frank, sliding down his stomach slowly. “Remember, what I said back then, Frankie? That it's not real if we don't act on it?” he whispered as his hand crept lower.

“Y-yeah,” Frank muttered breathlessly.

“I want this to be real.”

His fingers fumbled with the button of Frank's jeans before he finally got them undone. He slid the zipper down slowly and then clumsily pulled the denim over Frank's slim hips with ease. They dropped down to Frank’s ankles with a soft thud. Gerard giggled flirtatiously and pressed a sloppy kiss to Frank's neck as his fingertips danced teasingly along the waistband of his boxers.

“Gerard,” Frank said softly, almost pleadingly, “please touch me.”

So Gerard did. He touched him like he knew what he was doing. He touched him like he wasn't absolutely terrified. He touched him like it was the only thing that mattered. Like he was the most important person in the world. Gerard touched him and Frank touched him back, holding him close as he shook like he knew exactly how to keep him together. And when Frank touched him, their foreheads pressed together, sweaty bangs falling in each other’s faces, all the parts of him that were wrong and misaligned felt right. Even in the dark, Frank made him feel handsome, important. Powerful. He felt like some kind of ancient god, waking up from centuries of sleep.

The sensation reverberated through his bones, making his skin tingle, lasting long after the high had faded.

Frank leaned heavily against Gerard’s chest, reveling in the afterglow. Gerard felt a shower of sparks shoot up his spine as the quiet swelled around them once again. Their hearts thudding loudly as their breathing synchronized.

“S-shit, Gee,” Frank murmured.

“Was I ok?” Gerard whispered.

Frank just chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “You were great. Absolutely amazing.”

For the next hour, they just sat and held hands in the dark, the adrenaline still pumping through their veins, molten and fiery. It didn't really hit Gerard until the morning after when they were back at his house, curled up on the bed, Frank’s head in his lap as he snored softly.

He watched Frank sleep, the morning glowing bright and new on his face. The sun shone as radiant as the truth through Gerard’s bedroom window and he wondered if he was brave enough to love him.

But for once, the Devil and God, good and evil, restraint and desire- they were all silent within him. Finally, he felt like he had found Heaven for real.

**Author's Note:**

> So I completely forgot I had written this AGES ago, I found it hidden away in my writing folder and fell in love all over again. Which is hilarious because I absolutely hated it when I wrote it? It was written around the same time as "The Ocean" which tackles very similar themes and is written with very heavy metaphors like this story is. 
> 
> This one is very heavily inspired by "We Know the Devil," a spooky little visual novel about three queer kids at a Christian summer camp where they're forced to spend the night in a cabin alone in the middle of the woods and face the Literal Devil. It's a very surreal, creepy, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful story about queerness, the ways that we try to hide who we are, and how we can hurt other people along the way by doing so. It's one of my absolute favorite things ever and I recommend checking it out. 
> 
> In the visual novel, the Devil is both an actual figure and a metaphor. Obviously, in this story, he's a metaphor for desire and freedom. I'm just a slut for metaphors, okay? 
> 
> Also, I’m sorry I gave Gerard such a terrible dead name. I usually try to avoid the whole “trans character who picks a name that’s essentially the genderswapped version of their old one” trope. But I wrote this like three years ago before I had standards lol. And I really liked the structure and the function of names in this story so I kept it even though it makes me cringe.
> 
> Now, tropes aren’t always bad in writing. Sometimes they have truth in them, but they’re generalizing and that can be harmful if you don’t know what you’re doing. One of the biggest reasons I started writing stories with trans characters was the desire to undo all of these stupid tropes that are so overdone in stories about transness written by cis people. 
> 
> That’s what I intend to do with all of my stories and I hope that resonates with people. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I love you with all of my big, queer heart! <3


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